


Never lost

by ColorfulStabwound



Series: Drarry Dump [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-20
Updated: 2012-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:29:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2167563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulStabwound/pseuds/ColorfulStabwound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am a perfectly constructed farce, a walking contradiction. I am so much more, but when he looks at me I am just Draco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never lost

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration gratuitously borrowed from the Smashing Pumpkins.

_  
Never want to come down..Never want to come down.._

I’ve said it before, I will say it again.

He makes me this way.

I am a perfectly constructed farce, a walking contradiction. I am so much more, but when he looks at me I am just Draco.  I have stories that could melt your heart and bring you tears, I know things you are happy you don’t, and when I love, I love violently.   He wasn’t always who he is now, but he’s always known how to get to me, how to make my pulse quicken and make my iris’s flash with anger.  No one has ever affected me as he has, and despite my loathing of such a weakness, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

It is here that I truly am alive, these moments in the middle of the night when I sit at the oaken desk in his bedroom, the soft sounds of his slumber breaking up the silence in such a way that you can’t help but smile. He’s face down, tangled in bed sheets, hair in a state of complete chaos. He’s perfect and he’s free and he’s mine.  Sometimes I sit here for hours, staring at his muggle laptop, occupying myself while he sleeps.  Sometimes he will wake and beckon me back and I will go, happily abandoning whatever it is that I am doing to climb back in bed with him.  Sometimes he will scold me for sneaking away from him and I’ll merely chuckle as I wrap his warmth up in my arms, and sometimes he will merely offer me a sleep induced smile and curl around me and tug me back to sleep with him.    Tonight his fingers are tracing patterns across my chest and I sigh softly, pulling him close enough to brush lips across his temple in the darkness.  He shifts against me and rises, the light from behind casting his face in shadows.  The palms of his hands are pressing against my shoulder and his leg slides over me, one coming to rest on either side me.  I smile, knowing he can’t see it, but doing it all the same.  I’m watching him, squinting in the darkness in an attempt to make out his features. He’s watching me back; I can  _feel_  it, penetrating my soul and burning my flesh.    The pads of his fingertips are teasing my bare skin and I smile again, this is his way..

“Can’t  sleep?”

I ask in the darkness, brow quirking as his fingers pause their plight for a brief moment.  He returns a non-descript response and my hands find their way to his thighs, where they rest comfortably, giving him free reign to do as he pleases.   It always starts like this, the soft caresses, the teasing, the blind determination in his features.  I love him for it, truly. Every time his mouth closes over my body my lashes kiss the pale skin beneath my eyes, he is far better than he realizes..

I am always preaching about patience and the art of taking ones time, but it’s times like this that turn my words into mere contradictions. He has the uncanny ability to unravel me in mere moments with the simplest of affections.  I want to devour him in ways that are probably not as black and white as you might think.  My fingers press into his back, nudging him close enough that I can easily roll him over, efficiently turning the tables. I hover over him, mouth mere inches from his, I can feel his breath on my face in the dark and I lean, seeking his mouth. His legs untangle themselves and wind around my waist, forcing me close enough that my shoulder blades quiver slightly from holding my weight so acutely. I litter him with nips and kisses, easing lower until there is no space or pockets of air left between us.  His fingers are twisting in my hair and his mouth is on my throat and I don’t even try to stifle the whimper that escapes me; I am still unsure who is dominating who..

Our bodies are like puzzle pieces and when he moves beneath me I can feel the edges that separate us start to blur. He’s murmuring in my ear, stringing half-coherent thoughts together in that mixture of parseltongue and English that shatters my resolve.  His legs tighten around my waist and his back arches against me and my arms circle tighter around him, it’s as close to devouring as I can get; and I gladly take it.   _Please don’t stop.._  The words he speaks pierce me, strike me in such a way that I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. The burn that centers in my chest is now pooling in my abdomen and I press closer still, sliding against him, his skin and mine sticky with perspiration. He tosses his head back and tugs painfully on my hair and I cry out, his name is on my lips and I  _never want to come down.._

I collapse against him, head burying in the juncture of throat and shoulder, breath ragged and skin on fire.  I can feel him gasping beneath me and I smile as his fingers release their painful hold on my hair and glide down the slick curve of my spine.  I pull back, lifting my head enough to peer down at him in the shadowy darkness. My mouth seeks his, closing over it, slowly, relishing every sated swipe of tongue, every lazy whimper that I pull from him.  These are the moments I am truly alive..

“Come back to bed.”

The words break through the silence like a bullet through a flock of doves and I glance over my shoulder at the bed, a soft smile tracing my mouth as I easily rise from the chair at the desk and pad across the cold tiles to his bed. He’s mussed from sleep, all tangles of bed sheets and chaotic hair.  I lower a knee onto the bed and let him drag down, smiling as he slides a knee over my form and straddles me; This is his way..

These are my dreams, tiny glimpses of the moments that matter most. Damn anyone who would deny me this.

 


End file.
